


on the edge of indiscretion

by loosingletters



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Crack Treated Seriously, Criminal Mastermind Obi-Wan Kenobi, First Meetings, Flirting, Guest starring Rush Clovis as Anakin's victim of the week, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Serial Killer Anakin Skywalker, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: “I swear I’m not a serial killer,” Anakin blurted out.His argument would probably be a little more convincing if he weren’t burying a body in the woods right now. But seriously, he wasn’t a serial killer. Five dead bodies did not make a serial killer.Anakin Skywalker meets a stranger in the woods.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 37
Kudos: 283





	on the edge of indiscretion

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is.  
> Title is from All Time Low's "Drugs & Candy"

“I swear I’m not a serial killer,” Anakin blurted out.

His argument would probably be a little more convincing if he weren’t burying a body in the woods right now. But seriously, he wasn’t a serial killer. Five dead bodies did not make a serial killer.

Or so he told himself.

Anakin wasn’t crazy after all. He didn’t even like killing. It was messy, a lot of work, and attempting to get rid of a body without leaving evidence anywhere was a _nightmare_. He knew all the tricks to it, of course, but that didn’t really make it easier. If anything, Anakin supposed that his life would be less stressful if he didn’t care and could just stab a couple people and walk home in a bloody shirt.

Would a crazy serial killer be able to kill five people without being noticed by the police? Anakin didn’t think so.

And if the stranger didn’t believe him, he always had his trusted knife with him. Anakin didn’t like guns at all. His therapist had once suggested it was lasting trauma from his mother’s former boss threatening them with a gun. Out of all the things Watto had done, waving his gun in Anakin’s face had honestly not even ranked that high. Guns were just shitty because they made a lot of noise and were a coward’s weapon.

A gun hadn’t protected Watto from Anakin’s rage.

“So you’re _not_ burying a dead body over there?” the stranger asked.

His accent was nice. The kind that usually made Anakin swoon, and if it weren’t two in the morning in the middle of the woods, Anakin would definitely try to hit him. The maybe-next-murder-victim was slightly shorter than Anakin, well-dressed, and exceptionally calm.

 _Interesting_.

He didn’t look like it was shock or fear keeping him level-headed. If anything, he appeared to be intrigued by Anakin’s nighttime activities. Not that this was a regular activity. Rush Clovis was the first one this year and it was already February. Anakin did know how to restrain himself thank-you-very-much.

“What’s it to you?” Anakin asked, leaning on his shovel in a way he hoped showed off his legs.

His pants weren’t particularly flattering, but he didn’t usually wear his fuck-me black jeans when he had to get rid of vermin. Maybe he should start wearing them in the future. It could even work as cover. Nobody would expect the guy with jeans so tight they looked painted on to do anything strenuous that actually required clothes.

“I’m in need of somebody willing to get rid of a few people,” the stranger said, casualty and elegance woven into his posture. “I thought you might be interested.”

Anakin cursed whatever gods there were that they’d met here instead of a bar. The things they could be doing in dirty bathroom stall… Instead, Anakin was freezing his ass off.

“I’m not a contract killer,” Anakin replied and shifted his weight.

The man smiled indulgently. “Not a serial killer, not a contract killer – I do wonder what type of murderer the Coruscant Cutter is.”

Oh, _great_.

Anakin felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He hated the name the papers had given him and wished the other man wouldn’t know it. That just ruined all future interactions. There was just no way you could picture somebody moaning your name after they’d said your murder alias once.

“That’s not my name.” The remark was perhaps a little childish, but this entire situation was already beyond surreal.

“I thought you may prefer me not addressing you by your real name, _Anakin_.”

Usually, Anakin wouldn’t. Under normal circumstances, this would be when he decided time was up, took his knife, and made this night even more troublesome by needing to dig a bigger grave. But, apparently, he was discovering a new kink because he was pretty sure he would murder for the way the stranger said his name.

“Uh,” Anakin spluttered. “I have a code. I only kill the deserving and not for money.”

Watto, that abusing bastard, had been the first and Rush Clovis, who didn’t understand the meaning of ‘no’, had been his latest project. Despite the general chaos of his life, Anakin was careful and meticulous when selecting his victims.

“I am aware. I did my research. I believe the job offer I have for you will let you attend to a lot of people who deserve it.”

A familiar tune rang in Anakin’s ears. The sweet seductive song of a siren tempting him to follow down this path of destruction and righteous judgment. It was difficult to restrain himself, to hold back, and swallow down his disgust when he saw the most fool of men walk straight past him. The hymn promised him that this was an opportunity for change like he’d never envisioned it.

“Who are you?” Anakin asked, licking over his lips. “You know my name – _somehow_ – but I don’t know yours.”

The man smiled and confidently walked over to Anakin, paying no attention to the body beside them.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He held out his hand, waiting for Anakin to shake it. “I arrange fortunate accidents and inheritances for people in need.”

A little dazed, Anakin accepted as his mind attempted to paint a picture of this Kenobi. Smart, clever, arranging crime as if it were a hobby. Anakin raised a brow in disbelief, his high school literature classes returning to him through winter’s fog. “Like Doyle’s Moriarty?”

Now Kenobi’s smile grew sharp, threatening like that of a predator, who knew he was at the top of the food chain. Kenobi looked like he wanted to devour Anakin, and he was pretty sure he’d let Kenobi do exactly as he pleased. “I like to think I’m more good-looking.”

“Right.” Another moment passed, then their hands separated. “And this is what? A job interview?”

“An evaluation of your skills,” Kenobi replied. “So far, your activities have suited me well. You have kept law enforcement busy, which stopped them from investigating my cases more in-depth. I decided that it would be beneficial to talk about our _arrangement_.”

“We don’t have an arrangement,” Anakin retorted quickly. “This is just dumb luck.”

Honestly, Anakin kind of hated that the police were looking into him. If they’d just do their jobs competently, Anakin’s services wouldn’t even be needed. They could take care of trash like Rush Clovis and Anakin could spend his weekends seducing handsome, well-dressed rich men who looked like they’d buy him a new laptop if he accompanied them for a night.

Anakin didn’t think Kenobi was the kind of man who’d be played like that, but he certainly had the money to spoil someone without care. His suit, jacket, shoes, and watch spelled wealth of the likes Anakin had ever only seen on Padmé’s fundraisers.

“I don’t believe in luck.”

Maybe being on his payroll would be nice. It wasn’t like Anakin had a lot of money in his bank account right now.

“Then what do you believe in?” Anakin asked.

Kenobi remained silent for another moment, then he pointed at Anakin’s shovel. “Hard work, Anakin, and I think you are not quite finished with your task yet.”

The man’s smugness was grating on Anakin’s nerves, yet it edged him on. He wanted to see what it would take to wipe that faux politeness from Kenobi’s face, crack that mask of his and expose what lingered beneath it. “I would be if you hadn’t interrupted me.”

Anakin glanced at Kenobi again, checking if he had drawn a weapon yet, then grabbed his shovel and finished digging his hole. He had gotten pretty far already and within a few minutes, Rush’s grave was done. Unwilling to touch the corps with his hands, Anakin used the shovel to roll the bastard into his grave. The position he landed in wasn’t flattering, but he deserved it. Kenobi watched silently as Anakin covered the body with earth and leaves, making the forest ground appear undisturbed.

Nobody was going to find him here.

When he was done, he wiped over his brow. Despite the cold temperatures, this activity had gotten Anakin to sweat.

“Convinced of my skill yet?” Anakin asked when he began gathering up all his items in his backpack.

“Very much,” Kenobi purred.

Okay, yeah, they were definitely flirting, Anakin wasn’t just seeing things. “And what does that mean?”

“It means I’d like to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening to hash out some details. This does seem like the start of a wonderful friendship.”

Anakin had never been a very smooth flirt. Expressing emotions was difficult when his always ran so deep and intense, they usually burned everyone they touched. Kenobi seemed like the kind of man who could withstand them.

“With some benefits?” Anakin suggested cheekily as he fell into step with Kenobi, moving away from the gravesite.

Kenobi didn’t pause. Nothing about his body language exposed his thoughts. All those flashes of himself he had allowed Anakin to see before had been perfectly calculated. Well, that certainly wasn’t a turn-off. Anakin had always had a thing for people who liked control.

“If you are interested in such.”

Anakin grinned as bloodthirsty as Kenobi had before. “I’d be a fool to reject.”

And if dinner ended in Kenobi’s bedroom, then Anakin didn’t complain but stayed in bed until already moaning Kenobi’s name had become a pleasure, then that was entirely their business.

**Author's Note:**

> And Anakin spends the rest of his life as Obi-Wan's pet serial killer/sugar baby.  
> Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
